You Alone Can Make My Song Take Flight
by FunkyBubble14
Summary: Just my version of what I think should have happened during the Final Lair scene. One-shot. E/C as usual, musical based.


**Musical based. Inspiration came from end of lair scene: listening to the music, I just couldn't understand how Christine could have left Erik.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera (lyrics, characters, etc.)**

Christine allowed Raoul to take her hand, helping her into the boat as the fled from her Angel's home. She sat down and pulled her knees up to her chin, trying to calm her breathing. Emotion was still rocking through her, threatening to send her over the edge. _The mob sounds closer,_ she thought. Christine shuddered, knowing they were after her Angel.

She snuck a glance at Raoul, noting his panicked look as he tried to put as much distance between the Phantom and themselves. They could have gotten an earlier start if Christine hadn't turned back at the last moment to give her ring back to her Angel. He seemed shocked to see her return, as if he had already prepared to never see her again.

_I don't know why I did it, _Christine sighed. _I guess it just felt right. After all he did for me, the least I can do is give him something to remember me by…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a last burst of sound coming from the home of her Angel. Christine turned in her seat and strained to listen.

"_You alone can make my song take flight- __It's over now… the music of the night!_"

A small sob escaped Christine as her Angel's last words tugged desperately at her heart, begging her not to leave, or perhaps lamenting her departure. Her thoughts turned back to what else he had said before she left.

"_Christine, I love you…_"

Christine shuddered involuntarily again. _That was probably the only time in his life those words left his lips,_ she thought. Christine knew her Angel had never been with a woman before, his mother despised him; he had no occasion to say them to anyone. She looked at Raoul again. _Rich, handsome, charming- surely he'd have no trouble finding love again if he didn't have me. But my Angel…_

There was no mistaking the emotion in his words. He loved her, he _needed _her. And here she was abandoning him! Her Angel, who had helped her since the moment she had set foot in the opera house. Guilt welled up inside her until she felt as if she would burst; Christine closer her eyes and hugged her knees closer. _Oh, my poor Angel! _She was so terrible to be leaving him!

Slowly opening her eyes, Christine gripped the sides of the boat tightly and prayed she wouldn't regret what she was about to do. She then stood up, swallowing her shriek as the boat swayed violently, and leapt into the black water of the lake.

She saw Raoul spin about at hearing the colossal splash, and he began to scream after her. "Christine, what on earth are you doing? You must come back!"

Christine's response echoed back to him across the lake.

"Raoul, I can't! He needs me," She hesitated only slightly before adding "and I love him!"

Christine was grateful that Raoul wasn't a very competent rower: he hadn't put much distance between the boat and the shore, and already the heavy folds of her dress were beginning to drag her down.

Christine gave a huge sigh of relief when she finally dragged herself out onto the pebbly shore. After a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw that apparently Raoul was _not_ coming back for her. She then gathered herself up and ran back to her Angel.

Erik knelt on the floor of his lair and gathered his cloak tightly around his body. Christine had left him; there was nothing left to do but wait for the mob to find him. His head lifted slightly at the sound of footsteps. _Here they come, to bring death to the monster, _he thought grimly. His head once more dropped down to his chest. But as the sound grew nearer, it became clear that it was coming not from a mob, but from a single pair of feet…

"Angel!"

"Christine?"

Erik jumped to his feet, shocked and hardly daring to believe his eyes. But it _was_ Christine, and he knew because she had just run through his front door and thrown her arms around his neck.

_What on earth was she doing here?! Why would she come back?_ Erik thought. He began to panic when he realized he was not wearing his mask, he had never put it back on after Christine had… had kissed him. It then dawned on him that Christine was soaking wet. _She must have swum back through the lake! Why?..._

Erik shook himself mentally. All this was very interesting, but at the moment, it was unimportant. Christine should not be here.

"Christine," he disentangled himself from her arms, "you cannot be here. The mob will come at any moment, and-" Christine shook her head and stepped closer.

"Angel, stop! Can't you see? I've come back, I've come back for you!" On her face was a look of pure joy, of excitement (though maybe a little confused as well). She tried to take his hands in her own, but he put them on either side of her face to force her to look in his eyes.

"Listen to me!" he said forcefully. "If that mob finds you-" Christine just cut him off again and pushed his hands away.

"Let them! If they want to hurt you they'll have to go through me first. If they want to kill you they'll have to kill me too!" she said defiantly. She crossed her arms and met Erik's glare with one of her own.

Erik groaned. He had had enough of this; he would not allow Christine to endanger herself for his sake. He gripped her upper arms tightly and began to raise his voice.

"Christine, leave me now, or I swear I'll-" Erik was cut off by the sound of angry voices that suddenly filled the room. He pulled Christine close to him and began to whisper frantically.

"Christine…"

"No!" she hissed back. "I'm not leaving you!" With that, she placed herself in front of Erik and turned to face the mob.

Christine struggled to control herself when she saw the mass of people moving toward them. Whatever happened, she would not allow them to hurt her Angel. She had done enough of that herself, if only emotionally.

"There he is! The Phantom of the Opera!"

"The murderous beast himself! So hideous…"

Christine tried not to shudder as a wave of unfamiliar voice swept over her. She stood up straight, steeling herself to protect her Angel (who was still trying to get Christine to leave, or at least stand behind him). Just then, a large man with a club stepped to the front of the group.

"Step aside Mme. Daaé. We do not wish to harm you, just the monster."

"No," she breathed. She clenched her fists and spoke again, louder this time. "I won't step aside! You'll have to kill me first!"

This appeared to be too much for the man. "You leave us no choice then!" he growled. He surged forward, and grabbing her wrist, he threw her to the floor. She hit the stone hard and cried out. Instantly all hell broke loose. The mob fell on her Angel with knives and clubs and fists. Christine sat up, only to see her Angel fall to the floor.

"NOOO!" Christine screamed, reaching out to him. No words could describe the pain and agony heard in her cry. She sunk weakly back down to the floor and began to sob. She dimly registered the sounds of the mob leaving.

_I've failed him,_ Christine thought. _I finally realize how much he needs me, and how much he means to me, and now I lose him! _Christine knew the departure of the mob could only mean one thing; her Angel was dead. Surely they wouldn't have left until they were sure they had finished the murderous Phantom once and for all. And she had let them. Christine swore she would protect him, yet allowed herself to be thrown aside at the first threat. She curled in closer, vowing that, as punishment for her failure, she would let herself die on the cold stone floors of her Angel's lair.

"_Christine…" _She sat up in a flash, heart beating wildly. Surely she was imagining things; she had _seen_ her Angel fall.

"_Christine…"_ No! There it was again, a sound faint as the gentlest breeze, but still there. Christine scrambled to her feet and hurried across the room to her Angel.

Kneeling beside him, her hands hovered over his back, until she gingerly turned him over. _Please let him be alive,_ she prayed. _I know he's injured, just please let him live! _Christine waited with baited breath until finally he drew in a long shuddering gasp and began to cough weakly, blood trickling down from his mouth.

"Oh Angel, I'm so sorry!" Christine whispered as she pulled out her handkerchief to clean the blood and saliva from his chin. At the sound of her voice, his eyes fluttered open and he turned onto his back, desperately searching for Christine's face. His sudden movement startled Christine, and she started to panic.

"Oh Angel, no, please lie still! I don't know how badly you are hurt, and I don't want you making it any worse," she said urgently. She put her hand on his chest to steady him; her Angel only smiled weakly and took her hand in his.

"Christine," he said softly as he gazed up at her worried face, "I thought I told you to leave me."

She shook her head and began to look over his wounds, eyes rapidly filling with tears. "I…I couldn't Angel. I realized I loved you, I had to come back and I couldn't just leave you to the mob. And now you're hurt, and it's all my fault!" Christine's voice grew more and more frantic as she removed his shirt and truly saw the extent of his injuries. "I said I was going to protect you, but I couldn't, and you might die Angel, and…"

Her next words turned to sobs, and Christine began to cry, shedding tears all over her Angel's bloody body. _How could I let this happen?! His injuries are even worse than I thought; they did so much damage in so little time! _Her Angel's breathing grew more labored, each breath shallower than the first. Christine could only bring herself to stroke his hair and hold his hand as he left, not trusting herself to speak.

Erik knew he was dying. It was what he had expected, he only wished Christine weren't here to witness it. It _did_ comfort him to have her by his side, holding his hand, even stroking his hair! … But he knew his pain caused her pain as well, and he couldn't bear to see his Christine upset. Slowly, he gathered his strength to speak.

"Erik…" he breathed. Christine sat up and brushed the tears from her face.

"Wh-what?" Erik smiled. Oh, to see that look on Christine's face once more before he died, that look of slight confusion that made her look so young and innocent!

"My name is Erik," he said simply. Understanding dawned on Christine's face. She laughed weakly and sat back on her heels. "My Angel has a name! How could I have not thought of it?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Erik…" Christine grinned and cupped his chin in her hand. "It suits you," she said gently.

Erik felt at peace now, lying here with Christine gazing lovingly at his face. He had finally told her his last secret, he owed her nothing more. _And now…I feel as if I am free to go. _Erik closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He reached out for Christine's hand, hoping to give his final goodbye-but where was it? Erik opened his eyes in a panic; Christine was gone!

Coughing violently Erik got himself up onto his elbows to look around. His lair was empty, but how? Christine couldn't have just disappeared…

No, there she was. Christine came back into view, hurrying to Erik's side wearing his black traveling cloak. He struggled to comprehend what was going on. "Christine, why are you wearing my cloak? What are you doing? I… don't…understand," he sputtered.

"Shh, don't speak An- Erik," she said brightly. She put a hand on his shoulder, gently forcing him to lie down again. "I'm going to go find a doctor for you. I can't let you die, not now."

"But, why? Christine, I-"

"Erik-" she chuckled softly, seemingly unable to control herself. "Erik, I can't let you die, especially not now that I finally know your name." She started to get up.

Erik began to panic again; Christine was leaving him! _I knew it, I knew she would leave. She just needed an excuse to run back to that de Chagney boy. I'm going to die alone!_

"Erik, I really will come back. I won't leave you, I promise," Christine said, pleading with him. Erik only sighed; he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was the soft touch of Christine's lips on his forehead.

Pain. That was the first thing Erik felt as he woke. He groaned. _The mob,_ he remembered. _The mob found my lair, they attacked me! That's why I'm in so much pain. But… _Erik struggled to remember what else happened. _Christine! Christine was there, wasn't she?_

Erik looked around. He was in his bedroom, but he was alone. He sighed. He knew it was too much to hope for. Even if Christine's presence hadn't been a dream or a hallucination, even if she really had been there, she wasn't with Erik now. He closed his eyes again and tried to fall asleep, only to be jolted awake by his door slamming open.

"Good morning Erik! Sorry about the door, I keep forgetting how much force I need to get it open. How are you feeling?"

_Dead. I'm dead. Or dreaming, _Erik thought. Why else would Christine be standing in his bedroom carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray? He wasn't even wearing his mask. His only response was "Uhhh…"

Christine set down the tray and hurried to his side, carefully setting herself down on the bed next to him. She brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. "You were in pretty bad shape when I finally got here with the doctor. I could have gotten here sooner, but I insisted that he wear a blindfold on the way here, to keep your home a secret. He did manage to bandage you up, stitch your cuts and set your arm, as it was broken, but…"

Christine's voice washed over him in a wordless drone. What did it matter what she said to him? She was here, and he _wasn't_ going to die after all. Best of all, it seemed that everything she had said to him before was true. No matter what happened, Christine would not leave him.  
"Erik?" Christine's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Erik, are you listening to me?"

Erik nodded vaguely. He took Christine's hand in his and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "I love you Christine," he whispered. He felt her soft touch on his chin, tilting his head to look at her. She bent down and kissed him, long and gentle. "I love you too Erik."

**Kind of a fluffy ending, but that's what the muse left me to work with. Hope you liked it (sorry about changing POVs). Thanks for reading, please review!**


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